ACROSS 

 MONGOLIAN PLAINS 



CHAPTER I 



ENTERING THE LAND OF MYSTERY 



Careering madly in a motor car behind a herd of an- 

 telope fleeing like wind-blown ribbons across a desert 

 which isn't a desert, past caravans of camels led by 

 picturesque Mongol horsemen, the Twentieth Century 

 suddenly and violently interjected into the Middle Ages, 

 should be contrast and paradox enough for even the 

 most blase sportsman. I am a naturalist who has wan- 

 dered into many of the far corners of the earth. I have 

 seen strange men and things, but what I saw on the great 

 Mongolian plateau fairly took my breath away and left 

 me dazed, utterly unable to adjust my mental per- 

 spective. 



When leaving Peking in late August, 1918, to cross 

 the Gobi Desert in Mongolia, I knew that I was to go 

 by motor car. But somehow the very names "Mon- 

 golia" and "Gobi Desert" brought such a vivid picture 

 of the days of Kublai Khan and ancient Cathay that my 

 clouded mind refused to admit the thought of automo- 

 biles. It was enough that I was going to the land of 



which I had so often dreamed. 



1 



